


Alive and solid

by ZoenOut



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aziraphale Has an Anxiety Disorder (Good Omens), Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying, Crying Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Crowley, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Men Crying, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoenOut/pseuds/ZoenOut
Summary: Crowley's heart is beating out of his chest. He doesn't know how to deal with this, how to regain control.How lucky then that Aziraphale has dealt with this, how lucky then that Aziraphale knows how to deal with this.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	Alive and solid

Aziraphale tried to get comfortable. Despite being hyper aware of Crowley’s rigid hand in his, despite the bright white lights that seemed to be flashing before his eyes, despite the seat being just a bit too small. He tried to get comfortable despite the looming dread he felt, despite the fear of death being palatable. He tried to relax, there was a long ride ahead. The bus shook in a rhythmic pattern as it travelled through quiet forests. Aziraphale closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he felt Crowley’s hand shake slightly in his. A thin layer of sweat lined their hands despite neither of them being particularly warm. Crowley’s hand was frigid and yet he was sweating, Aziraphale felt another shiver go through Crowley’s hand. Then he heard a sniffle.

Aziraphale’s head shot around to look at Crowley. The demon quickly looked out the window but Aziraphale had seen what he thought he’d heard. Aziraphale had seen the tears quickly streaming down Crowley’s cheeks, he had seen the pained and desperate expression Crowley wore. He’d seen the way Crowley’s shoulders went up-down up-down in a rhythm all too rapid. He’d seen it. Crowley knew Aziraphale had seen. He knew Aziraphale would think less of him, he knew Aziraphale would leave his pathetic self as soon as they got into London. Crowley would have to go meet death by himself, estranged from the only being he’d been able to call a friend. Crowley couldn’t help himself, his throat made a sound almost like a sob, he was helpless, pathetic, disgusting, useless, horrible. Nothing more. He felt a light squeeze. Aziraphale squeezed his hand. Aziraphale was holding his hand. Crowley lightly squeezed back, just waiting for Aziraphale to let go with a disgusted expression. Aziraphale returned the favor. Then he began talking, whispering.  
“Focus on my hand in yours, dear boy. Do you feel how solid it is? It won’t break if you put pressure on it, it’ll stay solid. Focus on it now. Focus on your hand. Just as solid as mine. Correct?”  
Crowley nodded slightly.  
“Yeah…”  
“You are as solid as your hand. You won’t break. You’ll stay here, you’ll stay solid. And so will I. And we’ll get through this. We will.”  
“Will we?”  
“We will.” Aziraphale’s voice was at full volume now, Crowley shivered.

He took a breath. He listened to Aziraphale. Focus on the hands. They are solid. I am solid. He is solid. We are solid. We won’t break apart. We’ll stay. We’ll stay here. We’ll make it out. We will. Take another breath. You are still here, he is still here, we are still here. Solid, alive. Your heart isn’t beating out of your chest anymore, you’re fine. You’re alive. 

They stepped off the bus into the pouring rain, perfectly alive, perfectly solid.   
“Do you feel the rain, dear boy?”  
Crowley chuckled, it sounded forced but it was sincere.  
“Do you, angel?”  
“I do.” Aziraphale smiled as the rain made his hair slick against his forehead. He closed his eyes, let the rain gently touch his eyelids. If this was their last moment together how fitting that it was raining.   
Crowley felt as if something struck him. As if a feather touched his heart, made him shiver and then painfully kept his heart beating.  
“Aziraphale?”  
“Hm?”  
“If we make it… I mean… When we make it. We won’t just go back to normal right? Won’t just meet every 50 or 100 years?” Aziraphale didn’t answer. “Please?”  
“Crowley?”  
“Yes?”  
“I love you.”  
At any other time Crowley would have imploded. He wouldn’t have been able to function. He would have embarrassed himself completely. But now he just accepted it. Now, in the pouring rain, hours away from triumph or tragedy, it felt only natural.  
“I love you too.”  
They were alive. Alive and solid. They weren’t going to break apart. They would walk home together in the rain and then they would figure out a plan for survival. Alive. Alive, solid and together.


End file.
